“Oh.” Her gaze skidded away.
He studied the shadowed contours of her face a long moment, but there was no emotion discernible there, and he turned from her finally, going to the door, opening it. His hand on the knob, his back to her, he told her, “I shall await you above deck.”
Only silence answered him, but he knew she would come, and he left, closing the door softly behind him.
The double-storied plantationhouse was clearly visible from the Ashley. Its whitewashed brick facade reflected the moonlight, making it glow—a silent beacon to those who would navigate the foggy river. Enormous white columns buttressed the stately portico. It was a magnificent house, Jessie admitted to herself as she stood before the massive oak front door, stunningly so, but it seemed oddly unbalanced. In the darkness she couldn’t quite discern why.
No sooner had Christian opened the front door when he again seized hold of her arm, guiding her within. She would have protested save that she was rendered speechless upon entering the house. Nothing could have prepared her for the sight within. Certainly not the perfectly constructed classical architecture of its exterior.
The entrance hall was in a lamentable state at best. At least five hastily constructed scaffolds occupied the room. The ceilings and floors completely lacked decorative molding, and the walls were unsightly, bare of everything save for the gas lit lanterns that now gave the room light. There was not a single stick of furniture within the room.
Jessie could scarcely hide her stupefaction. She peered up at Christian with furrowed brows and saw that he was watching herintently, as though he anticipated her reaction and was bracing himself for the worst.
“It is under construction,” Ben told her when he saw the look that passed between them.
She lifted a brow. “So I’ve gathered.” She cast Ben an amused glance. Did he think she could not tell? Splotches of white paint garnished the wall that faced them, and wood pieces of all sizes and shapes littered the bare wood floor. This, she thought, was likely where Christian had procured the oak for Ben to fashion his walking cane from, and it struck her then that he should have been so attentive to such a small detail, and then again, one so grand. She swallowed, secretly moved that he should be so thoughtful of Ben. And she couldn’t help but recall the cheval glass he’d brought to her aboard the Mistral; she never had thanked him, nor had he ever mentioned it.
Her gaze returned to Ben, for it seemed to her he did, indeed, walk with a slight limp, though his leg was much improved. She watched her cousin hobble before them, trying to clear away the clutter from their path, and her heart felt burdened for him.
Christian left her to aid Ben, and no one spoke another word as they attempted to wade through the chaos of his home. Again to her surprise, Jessie was led up the spiral staircase to a fully furnished chamber decorated in much the same manner as the cabin she’d occupied upon the Mistral. Here, however, there were no stained-glass windows. Instead, there were six full-length panes, one set of them being a double door that led to what she assumed was a balcony.
She went to it, unlocking it and opening the doors. Leaving the lantern behind, upon a table, she stepped out into the black night, taking a deep, calming breath, for it had not escaped her just where Christian had brought her.
For a long moment she merely stood, staring into the darkness, unsure of what to say or feel. He came up behind her,his footfalls soft and almost inaudible; she sensed more than heard him.
“I take it this is the master’s chamber?” she said after a moment.
“It is.”
“And where am I to sleep?” she dared to ask, her tone dauntless, though she wasn’t quite brave enough to look at him as yet.
“Here, of course,” he said firmly. “As was the case upon the ship, there is no other place but here. As Ben said, the house is still under construction—only the kitchens are complete as yet, the dining room, my office, and the entrance hall. Upstairs, there is this room, and one other, and Jean Paul and Ben will utilize the other. You shall sleep here.”
“And where will you sleep?” She braced herself for his answer. “Here?” she persisted, turning to face him. She shook her head. “If so, Christian, I’ll not stay with you! In case you’ve forgotten, you’ve already ruined my life once—I’ll not let you do so again!”
Christian sighed regretfully. “It’s too late for that, don’t you think?”
Her vision blurred at his insinuation. “You are heartless!” she choked out, refusing to cry.
“The truth is, Jessie, that you have no choice.” He sighed deeply, shaking his head. “You cannot leave Shadow Moss, as you well know. Everyone believes you’ve sailed to England with Ben. If you go back now, you’ll raise suspicions—not to mention the fact that your reputation would surely be in tatters then. After all, there were no other women aboard the Mistral.”
“Yes!” she hissed, her lips trembling in her fury. “Though what difference does it make if I go now, or wait until Ben heals? Either way my reputation will be ruined—and ’tis all your fault!”Her face twisted with grief. “Why couldn’t you have simply let me be? Why? You didn’t need me.”
Christian averted his gaze, his jaw working. “It seemed the thing to do at the time. I thought Ben and Jean Paul were injured more seriously than they were.” He met her eyes once more, his own sparkling with some emotion Jessie couldn’t quite decipher. He shuttered it quickly, masking it with sarcasm. “Aren’t you pleased I was wrong?”
Jessie shook her head, unable to speak, and he cast his head backward staring into the sky, closing his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he said without opening his eyes. The rigid planes of his face were so taut, he seemed carved of stone. “I wish...” He shuddered and said slowly, “I wish I’d left you alone, but I did not. What we’ve done cannot be undone, much as I wish it.” His eyes flew open, piercing her with their blue intensity. “And now... much as I loathe to... I must insist you stay.”
“And will you build a gaol for me?”
His tone was unyielding. “Nay, Jessamine, but you will, indeed, remain here. The only way back to Charlestown is by boat—my boat,” he pointed out coldly, “and everyone already knows you are to stay as my guest, willing or nay. You might make the best of it. After last eve,” he added cruelly, “what have you left to lose?”
Jessie gasped in shock and outrage. Her palm cracked furiously against his shadowed jaw. “How dare you say such a thing to me?”
He caught her wrist as she retreated. His jaw taut, he clenched his teeth, rubbing his face with his free hand. His eyes flashed with anger. “Because,” he said, his eyes narrowing, “’tis the bloody damned truth!”
Jessie tried again to slap him with her free hand, but he caught that wrist too, encircling it with fingers of steel. “Once,”he allowed, “but never again,mon amour.” His whisper was frightening in its violent intensity. Had he shouted, Jessie doubted his words would have been more ominous. “Never think to strike me again.”
